


Hostage

by Eridanie



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Cruelty, Emotional Manipulation, Fade to Black, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, S&M, Sadism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eridanie/pseuds/Eridanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Back off! ... Or I'll kill Suresh! I’ll slit his throat right here!"</p><p>Peter halted looking torn, his sudden restraint almost made him appear to be fighting a telekinetic force, but Mohinder new Sylar didn't really have him in one. Peter just tended to look that way when he was facing difficult decisions. His muscles straining even as they were bound by his attempt at control, the fierce look on his face was twisted into a grimace of rage, and Mohinder wondered what it said about himself that he had never found him so hot. So fuckable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I would transfer over some of my old Heroes fanfic from Livejournal in 2008 over to my AO3 account in celebration of Heroes being a thing again. Plus I know people don't really use LJ anymore so I thought it would be nice if my fanfic was centralized in one place.
> 
> thought I would start ending my posting dry spell with an modified exchange fic that I never re-posted. Hope you like it <3
> 
> word-count: 2,317  
> Rating: NC17
> 
> Warnings: implied non-con, violence, sadomasochism, manipulation, bondage, and emotional torture  
> Mild spoilers for season three.

"Back off! ... Or I'll kill Suresh! I’ll slit his throat right here!"

Peter halted looking torn, his sudden restraint almost made him appear to be fighting a telekinetic force, but Mohinder knew Sylar didn't really have him in one. Peter just tended to look that way when he was facing difficult decisions. His muscles straining even as they were bound by his attempt at control, the fierce look on his face was twisted into a grimace of rage, and Mohinder wondered what it said about himself that he had never found him so hot. So fuckable.

"You see? He holds back to save you. Sweet Peter. Even after I just barely saved him from being your lab rat."

Mohinder flashed a sharp look at him. Why must the man taunt him with his inadequacies, with his mistakes? Damn it! Peter's face was heart wrenching as Sylar cruelly rubbed that memory in his face, he couldn't stand that of all people Peter could make a face that really made him feel guilty, it just radiated that guilt inducing pain. Peter and Claire. No other two people could make him feel so guilty. Maybe it was a family thing? But then he'd never once felt guilty about hurting the rest of the Petrelli's, and it seemed the rest were immune to the charms of these two.

"All right. So look. We really don't have such different aims here so can't we just calm down? It can't hurt to just hang with me here a bit right? You don't have much else to do." Peter looked even more enraged at the implication that he wasn’t busy saving the world.

"How could you possibly think I would let you hold me captive? I have every power you do."

"Yes and that means no healing. You can heal, but you can't heal him, when I slit his veins or squeeze his heart telekinetically. I can make it extraordinary painful for him too. The healing blood is thousands of miles away, I think we both know by now that it doesn't work the same way when it's borrowed."

"Yeah? So who'd you try to heal?"

That's none of your business!" He roared back. "Now you're going to be staying here. Don't even try to pretend that you won't, so just come with me now! When I get what I want then you’ll be free. No harm no foul.”

Peter silently let himself be dragged toes trailing along the floor as his eyes bore holes in the back os Sylar's head. He was slammed against the far wall of a concrete room, as Mohinder was dropped crumpling to Sylar's feet." Peter made his way over to him, kneeling over his huddled form.

"Are you ok man? Did he hurt you before I came?"

"Please. You don't need to be so nice to me. Not after what I've done to you."

“You were desperate. I don't blame you after I saw what that serum did to you. That could make anyone scared enough, desperate enough...." He trailed off. To polite to describe precisely what desperate actions he'd been driven to.

"I can't believe you're making excuses for me after..."

"Look it's not like it was your idea." He interrupted. "It was my father who was so keen to turn me into a lab rat. Taking my powers and delivering me to you like that." His words had faded into a sound of distracted sorrow as his gaze slid away to a distant but empty patch of concrete across the floor.

"Yeah that was pretty cold. and I thought my father didn't love me."

"He does love me."

"Yeah I suppose." Mohinder answered doubtfully. "Your family does have their own particular way of showing it though don't they?" Peter nodded at that, a rueful smile gracing his crooked lips, and curled his knees under to sit next to Mohinder, his shoulders bumping in slight familiarity.

~~~~

It wasn't until the end of the day that Sylar came back for him, grabbing him brutishly by the wrist, and pulling his body up against him.

"Your sweet ass is mine Suresh." He growled as he dragged him out the door.

He was dragged into a small bedroom that smelled of sage smoke. The walls were painted in a light rose color that was starting to flake off revealing the deathly white that lay just below the surface.

He was dropped roughly onto a a low mattress that was laying bare against the floor. It gave with the tired softness of something well used, but the sheets were clean. They were crisp and white and lacked the careworn smell of must that must surely infuse the mattress in it's bare state. By the side of the mattress a small green candle was burning, it must be this source from which the herbal scent was emanating. He wondered at this small pathetic attempt at romance in such a setting. A touch of romance that was not needed or expected under the circumstances, an oddity there in it's isolation.

Sylar pressed him down into the pillows lowering his body over his, pressing against him hungrily. Mohinder felt smothered by his weight. By the sheer size of him, overwhelming his ability to view anything else, to breathe in air that hadn't already been exhaled by him. He could feel Sylar's cock hardening against his thigh. Could smell the scent of his arousal rising thickly into their shared air. His fingers twined around Sylar's tight biceps, and Sylar laughed softly at the action, lowering his lips against Mohinder's own. Filling his mouth wetly. He pulled Mohinder's shirt up over his head, and pushed Mohinder's cheek into the pillow urging him onto his stomach. He reached for the side of the bed, and Mohinder saw him pulling up a loop of black Vinyl with velcro attached to it. His heart started racing. Restraints. He had prepared for this. He had outfitted the mattress with a set of under bed restraints. His fingers traced his wrists lovingly as he strapped the velcro into place, hands moving lower to slide off his pants and underwear before strapping his ankles in place as well. He reached over to the floor next and Mohinder wrenched his head back following Sylar’s movements as he picked up the candle moving to straddle Mohinder’s slim hips. Mohinder’s gaze settled intently on Sylar’s eyes as he watched him holding the candle just above his skin tipping slowly for dramatic affect.

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He whispered.

“Thank you.” was Sylar's only reply.

~~~~

Peter paced the narrow width of their cell. He was whispering to himself. Making faces that no one was there to see. He needed to do something. He couldn’t stand this inaction. Here he was just standing by as god knows what was happening to Mohinder. Lord knew he didn’t need a reason not to trust him, but he hadn’t liked his look when he had come to take him, it had an aura of uncontrolled lust and sadism. and there was always something weird there; to their relationship. It was so tense. Filled with unspoken issues, and Sylar always seemed to save the longest torture for Mohinder alone. Even when others were dispatched with speed.

He had to help him. Had to figure out what was happening to him. Had to stop it. He pressed his ear up to the door listening for any sound. After a few seconds he heard a cry of pain, and wrenched himself away from the door his pacing speeding with his fury, he pounded at the opposite wall. The rage of his helplessness, draining slightly at the pain in his hands. He shouldn’t listen again. Perhaps it was better not to know. Mohinder wouldn’t want him to know everything.

Finally he succumbed, listening at the door again. This time he didn’t pull away. Lingering long enough to hear the unmistakable sounds of intermingled cries of pain, and grunts of pleasure. The thumps, and crashes of a struggle. What was wrong with him! Listening uselessly at the door as Mohinder was violated only a room away! He had to stop this! Now he was just standing at the door hands twitching and hovering above the doorknob. His mind was racing. The serum had worked, but only to a degree. He was weaker than before, could only hold one power, and the power he held now was of no use to anyone, at least not in this situation. He didn't know if he could live with himself if he didn't try something, he dug a pocket knife out of his jeans flipping it open and pressing it into the lock, trying to use it to turn the ancient lock, finally after the application of much more brute force than finesse the door swung open. Maybe he had a chance at stopping this if he could sneak up on him while he was...preoccupied. He crept down the corridor rounding a turn and facing the door, but almost as soon as he started turning the handle he was telekinetically flung back down the hall. He growled in frustration, he could see their was no choice but to wait it out, and attend to Mohinder once Sylar had released him.

~~~~

Sylar sat at the head of the bed. His spine pressed flat to the cold plaster of the wall. He was holding a cigarette, letting the smoke billow up around him.

“Since when did you start smoking?”

“I Just thought it might be interesting to try. Smoking after sex. It’s supposed to be sexy.”

Mohinder rolled his eyes.” Well it’s not. It’s disgusting, and you look utterly ridiculous.” He sneered snatching the cigarette out of his hand, and putting it out on his inner thigh with a sadistic glare.

“Ow! What the hell!”

“Oh don’t be such a baby. You just burned me with wax. Look it’s already healing.”

“Well yeah, but a cigarette is hotter than wax, and besides you liked it.”

“Yes, well I don’t like being slowly poisoned to death, if you don’t mind. My lungs aren’t constantly healing you know.”

“Fine. All you have to do is say so.”

Mohinder didn’t respond, just leaned his back up against Sylar's thigh with a contented sigh. Sylar started tangling his fingers through his sweat soaked curls.

“I can’t believe that ridiculous line you tried to pull. We’re probably busted already.”

“Well it’s hard to think of anything good when you’re all on the spot like that!”

“But still! ‘You’re sweet ass is mine’! He’ll never buy that! That line is too ridiculous!”

“He doesn’t know I wouldn’t say that, and besides he’s not exactly the brightest anyway.”

“I don’t think that’s true. He may be a bleeding heart, and go around with a startled dear look on his face all the time, but that doesn’t mean he’s actually as stupid as he looks. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.”

Sylar snorted “Sorry! Didn’t mean to insult your husband. I’m sure he’s a secret genius underneath it all.”

“Just shut up. We still have more work to do for this to be convincing.”

“You look pretty debauched already. I don’t think it’s really necessary. Just admit it. You just want me to hurt you some more.”

Mohinder just smirked at him.

“Well what do you want me to do then?”

“Just give me some more bruises or something, bite marks, hickeys, scratches.”

Sylar grinned. “Gladly”

~~~~

When Sylar opened the door Mohinder could see Peter curled in the corner of their sleeping pad. The other man was very pale, and his face was clutched in his hands. As Mohinder was thrown through the door, landing on his knees with a jolt of pain he could see Peter whipping his head up, the worry he felt for him flashing in his eyes. He felt a momentary pang of guilt for his manipulations, but he knew it would all be for the better in the end.

Peter shot up rushing to his side to lift him to his feet. Mohinder winced as his fingers pressed into a sore rib. “Sorry .” Peter whispered, moving his fingers to a safer spot. Mohinder let himself be guided back to the sleeping pallet in the corner, collapsing into the dense foam. Letting a despondent look take over his face. Nurse Peter kicked into gear and he began searching over his body for injuries. Mohinder protested weakly, finally shoving his hands away as he tried to lift his shirt. “No. I’m fine.” Peter was looking down at him sadly. Words attempting to form on his lips.

“Did he... I...I’m so sorry I let his happen!”

“You didn’t let anything happen. There's nothing you could have done. I don’t want you involved with our... issues anyway.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to stop this. Somehow. I can’t let this continue. You’re too... you just don’t deserve this."

“Well you don’t really have to deserve something for it to happen to you do you? How many of us actually deserve anything that’s happened recently?”

That line earned him, a slight crooked grin. The grin that made his heart seize in it’s cavity slightly. Too bad there wouldn’t be much cause for him to smile for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

Mohinder curled up in the corner of their single shared foam pallet, and did his best to look pathetic and ravaged. It wasn't hard. He felt that way much of the time. But Peter was really giving him a run for his money as far as who could look more miserable. Peter was too easy to upset. This was why they needed to help him. The world would hurt him too easily the way he was. Mohinder and Sylar could condition him. They would succeed where Peter’s parents and brother had failed. He needed to be strong for the things that were to come. 

Mohinder turned, reaching up to his arm to get Peter’s attention. 

"Hey, it's going to be ok."

"How? How could any of this turn out ok?" Mohinder could hear a tinge of panic entering his voice as he looked up at him plaintively.

"At least we are here together. To comfort each other. It would be worse to be alone wouldn't it?"

"Maybe. But at least I wouldn't need to worry about anyone else. It would just be me."

"What about worrying about yourself? Don't you care what happens to you?"

"I guess." Peter replied distractedly. He seemed hesitant enough that it was obvious he didn't care what happened to him at all. Mohinder frowned. This would have to be fixed. Mohinder pulled Peter down next to him. 

"Come here,” Mohinder whispered.

Peter lay down next to him, his body settling into folds of rough cheap blankets, his head moving down to press against the worn pillow. He seemed to struggle for a moment to give Mohinder space, but it wasn't really possible with how narrow the bed was. Mohinder shrugged closer into him, resting his head against Peter’s, smiling to assure Peter that it was ok. They both needed the physical comfort anyway. Peter succumbed, wrapping his arms around Mohinder's waist, letting his nose settle against the curls at the back of Mohinder’s head. He was seemingly unconscious of his deep inhale. 

Mohinder could smell the mingled scent of Sylar on his own skin, mixed with the scent of Peter at his back. The feel of steady breathing from behind lulled him, and he was content to try and drift off, but he knew he should use this precious time better. He turned to his other side, looking up into Peter's face. Mohinder smiled at him weakly. 

"It's going to be ok. At least I'm here with you." Mohinder said softly squeezing his hand against Peter's arm. 

Mohinder looked up into Peter’s eyes, trying to search out his emotions. He lifted his chin up, straining to meet Peter's lips, licking along their slick edge slowly. Mohinder pressed their lips together, wet and slippery and smooth. He moved his entire body minutely closer as he sought to deepen their kiss, nudging his tongue past the barrier of Peter's shock slackened mouth. 

"No," Peter said in a whispered yet forceful tone. His voice had cracked.

Mohinder played dumb. He pretended he didn't already know why Peter was upset. He knew why. He knew Peter’s mind as well as his own. He had thought the same way...once. 

"Whats wrong? I just wanted to..." 

"Please... don't get me wrong. I really like you...it's just....this is wrong. You're upset. You're in shock. You don't know what you're doing right now and...."

"I know what I'm doing. I haven't lost all sense all of a sudden!"

"No...I know that...it's just that I don't want to take advantage of you, and you're vulnerable right now. There's no need to rush things. If you still want this when after..."

"I want this now!" Mohinder whined slightly. Why did Peter make everything so difficult?

"That's just because you're scared." He replied tensely squeezing his eyes tight against the sway of Mohinder's eyes.

“You don't know anything about what I'm feeling. I'm not scared... because you're here, and you make me feel safe."

"I..."

"... and I want you to do this for me. Please. Because I wanted it to be you. I thought about you... during..., and I want to make it you... to erase this, write over it, and everywhere he touched me will be you now instead. I can't deal with it like this, with the memory of him across my flesh, him being the last to touch me. I want you to take it away. Take him away."

Peter was looking at him with eyes wide with concern. He reached a gentle hand out and smoothed a curl back behind Mohinder’s ear, stroking his hair just above his temple. 

"I'm so sorry I let this happen." He tilted his head down and lay a soft kiss down on Mohinder's furrowed brow. "I really do love you, so much, but I can't hurt you."

"I understand," Mohinder replied smiling up at him. Mohinder had heard this before. He knew what to do next when he got a no. He raised himself up into a kneeling position and started stripping his clothes off suggestively. He'd never once gotten a second no after this routine, and Peter was kind, but he was no paragon of inhuman restraint. Mohinder opened his mouth half-way, licking his lips skillfully. He raised his thin t-shirt up over his head, gracing his fingers slowly across his torso as he did so. The collar of the shirt rumpled his curls even more as it slid over them. He inched his hands slowly down to his fly, unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down. He cupped his growing bulge through his boxers, then slid his fingers under them moaning slightly as his fingers made contact. He pushed his boxers down to his knees, and took his now erect length in hand pumping slowly with emphatic moans to punctuate each stroke. 

Peter was silent. He wasn't looking at Mohinder. He was pressing his palms into his eye sockets. But Mohinder could tell that Peter had seen enough, and he knew Peter could still hear. Peter’s breaths were coming deep and slow. Finally, he relented, pressing against Mohinder with a whimper, an exhalation of release. Mohinder watched as Peter’s pupils were blown wide and black with lust. Peter reached up to wrap his fingers round the back of Mohinder’s neck as he pulled him deeper into their kiss. Peter didn't really touch him everywhere Sylar had. But that was ok. He didn't really want Sylar erased. He liked the idea of both their residues, salts and scents, intermingled and overlapped across his body. 

Peter was a surprising lover. He was driven, desperate, possessive. His hands skated across Mohinder’s body with more strength, more pressure, but less fingernails than Sylar. He did seem determined to literally wipe the traces of Sylar from Mohinder, kissing across his every bruise and scrape. Mohinder bit and nibbled at every spot on Peter he'd ever become distracted by. He bit his ear as he pressed into his neck. When they were kissing, he nibbled at his full drooping bottom lip. Peter gasped at that, pushing Mohinder down further into the pillows. Balanced above him, Peter crushed Mohinder’s entire body beneath him. Every point of contact made, every limb matched with its twin. 

Mohinder had long since lost the feeling that he was in control of the situation. He hadn't expected Peter to be so dominant. Peter was so much more than he had imagined. Mohinder was hard. He was leaking. His erection pressing against Peter's. His pre-cum was leaving a tiny damp circle behind on Peter's pants. Mohinder thought he might explode, his need was so strong. He needed to feel bare skin against him. He started peeling Peter's clothes away in a frenzy. Peter laughed and began to help, his garments shed much faster under his own control. Mohinder sighed with relief when Peter’s bare skin was liberated and free to press and slide against Mohinder’s own.

He could feel Peter's heavy weight resting on him, feel the wet trail of pre-cum slick against his thigh where Peter's cock had slid against him. He moaned, bucking up into Peter, desperate for any pressure. Peter walked his hands down, working his way lower. He settled with his head aligned above Mohinders bobbing cock. He lowered his lips down gently, touching lightly, kissing the head. He settled his knees down between Mohinder's legs, wrapping his arms around his thighs, pulling up to bend them, making more room for himself to work. He lowered his head, exhaling teasingly on Mohinder for a moment, before wrapping his lips around the head softly, and extending his long tongue down the back of the shaft. He bobbed his head down, taking Mohinder's cock in deeply, until Mohinder could feel the head of his cock pressing against the back of Peter’s throat. Peter hummed with pleasure for a second, before taking on a steady bobbing rhythm, his breaths syncopating with his motions. 

Mohinder was writhing beneath him. His fingers, now tangled in Peter’s cropped hair, were seizing spasmodically with his pleasure. His breathing was coming out in gasping whimpers. Peter pulled up slightly, wrapping his fingers around the base of Mohinder’s shaft, pumping him, leaving the head of his cock free to slap loosely against Peter’s lips. 

~~~ 

Peter could taste the come he was leaving there in traces. It tasted salty and warm. Mohinder bucked up into Peter’s mouth as he began to come and Peter lifted his head to watch. It was amazing to witness the beauty of Mohinder's face contorted with ecstasy. To see the pearlescent white come pulsing up to stripe his taut abdomen and gleam brightly against his brown skin. Mohinder's head had relaxed against the pillow, a goofy smile flooding his face. Peter leaned down to Mohinder’s stomach to lap at a drop of come there, tasting Mohinder again as the fluid cooled. Then he wiped Mohinder down gently with a corner of the blanket, and shifted up to lie next to him. Mohinder turned to him. 

"Now fuck me."

"No. Please. I don't want to hurt you any further."

"I'll be fine."

"No."

~~~ 

Mohinder sighed. He hadn't expected Peter to agree, but it had been worth a try. He reached down and began stroking Peter with the practiced strokes he had found that most men liked, building up the intensity, desperation, and anticipation. He sped up the strokes until Peter came hard, yelling Mohinder's name at the ceiling.

~~~

Sylar could hear moans and gasps coming from the other room. He grinned. Imagining what those two must look like together drove him to rubbing a palm across the front of his pants in an attempt to ease the need for pressure from his insistent erection. Just a few hours, some time for them to cool down and get all disgustingly lovey and smoopy, and then Sylar had his part to play.

~~~

Peter had Mohinder wrapped in his arms and was stroking his hair and planting kisses along his neck and face, murmuring endearments and compliments. God, he was snuggly. It was almost beyond belief how anyone could fall in love so fast and be so sincere about it. The one place observation had led Mohinder regarding Peter was that he was one of a kind. Everything Peter did defied anything Mohinder had come to expect from the rest of humanity. This kind of affection was exactly the kind of thing he wouldn't tolerate from Sylar, but from Peter it was...almost nice. Still, it did make Mohinder want to turn it into something he could understand better. 

He turned to Peter, pressing their bodies even closer and kissing him with undisguised passion. He could almost feel Peter's pulse quicken again at the fiery kisses. Mohinder took control this time. He seized Peter’s head in his hands and pressed him back into the pillows with forceful kisses. Moving one leg up and over to straddle his pelvis he ground his ass against Peter, and could feel him once again hard. Nice refractory period! Sylar was going to enjoy that. 

Mohinder pushed his hands down against the mattress as he licked and bit his way down, nose finally brushing against Peter’s dark pubic hair, which was soft and still damp, before letting his tongue curl out to press against the base of Peter’s shaft. He licked across his length eagerly, the tip of his tongue tracing across throbbing veins, before reaching the naked head. Mohinder’s tongue delved down in an attempt to encircle it completely. 

Then, he pushed his arms down below him and pushed against Peter's thighs, urging him to part them wider, before slicking two fingers thickly with saliva and pushing them down to the part between Peter’s legs. He pushed his fingers past the tight ring of muscle. Peter choked out a gasping whimper as Mohinder’s fingers pressed into his prostate, Mohinder's mouth still smiling around his cock. Mohinder pumped against that spot over and over until he saw Peter trembling and sweating with ecstasy. He pulled out and brought his mouth up to Peter's ear whispering huskily to him. 

"Can I fuck you?"

He knew what Peter's answer would be before he heard his whimpered yes. Peter's body was trembling with need. He was far beyond ready for it. Mohinder pulled his foreskin back, slicking his length with saliva and pre-cum, cursing inside his head that there was no believable way to get lube into this room at the moment. He lined his shaft up at Peter's entrance and pushed slowly in. He eased in as gently as he could, giving Peter time to adjust after each inch, and whispering into his ear every dirty and appreciative thought that entered his brain. At least he didn't have to lie there. He knew that Sylar was listening with his super human ears, or perhaps even listening to their thoughts and looking through their eyes, and the thought of this voyeurism spurred him on. Just picturing Sylar jacking off to this made him even more aroused, and he quickened his pace, pumping into Peter harder and harder until he could feel him contorting with each relentless push against his prostate. Peter was such a vision like this, his pale porcelain skin flushed pink with pleasure, sweat glistening in tiny drops across his muscled chest. He repeated Mohinder’s name over and over, the end trailing off into a whimper of R's as he strained in pre-orgasmic twists of ecstasy, finally thrashing his head back into his pillow and exhaling with a rush of release as he came with bursts of white heat. Mohinder was right behind him, pumping his last gush of come deep into Peter’s body, and resting there for a moment on his arms, trying to catch his breath. 

Peter looked up at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile exhaling in a gasp of delirious laughter.

"Fuck, Mohinder! You're amazing!"

"Well thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it!" Mohinder laughed back at him, wrapping his arms around Peter, and pulling a twisted sheet up to half cover them. Before he had a chance to think anymore, he was overcome with a rush of exhaustion. He inhaled the saltysweet scent of Peter's hair, and drifted off to sleep with Peter still in his arms. Peter lifted his chin to rest in the crook of Mohinder's neck and fell asleep with half whispered endearments on his lips.

~~~

Sylar could hear that they'd fallen asleep and he grudgingly left them to it. He hadn't given either of them enough time to sleep and he supposed they would both perform better with rest. Sylar could keep himself painfully hard for hours, stroking and squeezing himself, but never letting himself come. It was torture, but Peter would be his next, and it would feel that much better when he finally had release.

~~~

 

Peter didn't know when he fell asleep, or how long he had been out, but he was suddenly woken up with a jolt as the weight resting around him was suddenly lifted and he heard a thump. He sat up quickly, pushing the covers back and blinking back the bleariness to see what had happened. Sylar was standing there grinning, and Mohinder was recovering from the jolt of being awakened from a telekinetic slam to the wall. Peter scrambled up, ready to come to Mohinder’s defense, but unsure how he could accomplish it. 

"Leave him alone," Peter demanded.

Sylar smirked down at him cruelly, "No. It's time for him to come with me again."

"I'm not gonna let you hurt him anymore. Just stop." 

"Oh really? Why should I stop? How do you plan on convincing me to do that?" Sylar laughed. "What? Would you like to come in his place then?"

Peter looked up at Sylar, startled by the question. His gaze glided over to Mohinder intently. Mohinder caught the look in his eyes and shook his head no. But Peter had already decided, They could both see that.

"It depends." Peter answered, “If I come with you, you'll really leave him alone?"

"Of course. For tonight anyway." 

Peter looked over at Mohinder as Sylar let him drop back onto the bed. Mohinder was still shaking his head. "No no no no! Peter. It's fine. It'll be fine. You don't need to do this!"

Peter set his mouth firmly. He wouldn't let Mohinder talk him out of it. 

"Ok then. Lets go." Sylar said emphasizing his demand with a pull of telekinesis.


End file.
